


A Marriage of Convenience

by Kispexi2



Category: Firefly
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-03-02
Updated: 2004-03-02
Packaged: 2017-10-10 03:00:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/94736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kispexi2/pseuds/Kispexi2





	A Marriage of Convenience

"You gonna take all day to unload one mule?" Mal demanded. "Sometimes I think I'm payin' you too much. Only person on this boat as makes a livin' from lyin' on her back is Inara here. Come on, people. Look lively!"

"We've been looking 'lively' all morning, Sir," Wash replied, coating the last word with heavy sarcasm as he got to his feet. "Which is why we're lookin' big with the dead tired now."

Mal shrugged. "Yeah. Whatever. Got everythin' on the list?"

"Special delivery for you, Cap'n Grumpy, Sir," Kaylee twinkled up at him, holding out a package wrapped in brown paper.

Mal set it down on one of the crates and began carefully unpeeling the packaging under the watchful eyes of his pilot, mechanic and shuttle tenant.

"You bought my wife a birthday present?" Wash demanded as Mal lifted a box from the package, his jealous outrage not entirely feigned.

"I sincerely hope not," Inara said, regarding the pink and white gingham box with its candy striped ribbon with undisguised distaste. "I can't imagine Zoe wanting anything from _that_ store."

"Ain't for her," Mal snipped huffily. Clasping the box close to his chest, he bounded off up the stairway two steps at a time.  


* * * * * *

  
There was something about the tall, broad-shouldered woman fixing herself a mug of coffee in the mess that seemed familiar to Jayne. He desperately tried to recall the previous night and whether he had brought one of the village whores back to his bunk. He really hoped not, because there was something about this woman's back that told him her face would be powerful ugly.

"'Scuse me, ma'am,"he said as politely as he could, just in case she was a paying passenger that Mal might take objection to him insulting, "but mugs an' such for passengers is over th-" His jaw fell open in disbelief as the woman turned around to face him. For some reason he couldn't fathom, Mal was standing right there in front of him dressed in ... well, in a _dress_. Had to be that gorram panty-waisted doctor's doin', Jayne thought to himself. He's doped the Cap'n up an' turned him as sly as he is!

"You don't like it?" Mal asked with a hint of disappointment as the mercenary struggled for words. Then he shrugged. "You might be right. Not sure this colour does anythin' for my complexion."

Jayne continued to stare at him open-mouthed, fearing anything he said might earn him a cut in pay, a punch in the face or worse.

Finally Mal flashed him a broad grin and slapped him heartily on the shoulder. "This here - " He indicated his outfit with a sweep of his hand. "- is all part of our plan. You an' me's gonna pose as villagers, as man an' wife, an' we'll be sittin' up front on the wagon. Zoe'll be in the back, waitin' for our signal." He gave the mercenary a self-satisfied smirk. "They call it tactics, Jayne."

The big man let out a long sigh of relief. "Had me worried there, Mal. Don't mind admittin'. Know it can be lonely out in the black sometimes but..." He shook away the worrying image his brain had conjured up and looked the Captain up and down like a man appraising a horse. "Pretty cunning. It's a good plan." He paused. "Just glad I ain't gotta be the woman."

"Yeah, well," Mal smiled, "you ain't got the legs for it."  


* * * * * *

  
Jayne was sitting on the exam table, watching as the woman Simon assumed must be last night's 'bit of trim' placed a foot on the chair in front of him and hitched up her skirt before doing something to her thigh that thankfully he couldn't quite see.

He yanked the infirmary door open and glared at the mercenary who leered back at him nastily over the woman's shoulder. "Get your whore out of my infirmary!" he yelled. On his own territory, Simon could be quite forceful. "What's wrong with your bunk?"

Mal stood up straight and turned towards his astonished and embarrassed medic. He raised his eyebrows and opened his eyes wide in mock offence. "I hope you ain't suggestin' I'd wanna be goin' to Jayne's bunk, Doctor?"

Simon hastily shook his head whilst Jayne grinned smugly as his discomfiture. "No, I – I ... Uh - why are you dressed like that?"

"Tactics, doctor, tactics," Mal replied weary of having to explain yet again, and as though it should have been obvious to anyone with half a brain. "Gonna pretend to be villagers so's we can sort out those bird-doggers."

Simon nodded sagely as though that explained perfectly why Mal needed to don a dress and frilly bonnet. "And you were in my infirmary because...?"

"Needed to conceal a firearm about my person," Mal explained, leaning confidentially in towards the doctor. "Had to use a bit of your tape." He stood back and smoothed the flounces of his skirt down over his hips. "So, what d'ya think, Doc?"

Simon looked him over steadily. "I can see the outline of your weapon," he said at last.

"Gorramit!" Mal sighed. "I knew I should have gone for something fuller about the hips!"  


* * * * *

  
Jayne was pacing about the cargo bay, impatient to get moving. It seemed like a long time since they'd last been in a bona fide gunfight and he was fired up with enthusiasm.

"Something old, something new," River intoned softly as Mal appeared at the top of the stairway. Holding his petticoats clear of the steps, he descended gingerly to the cargo bay where the rest of the crew were waiting wearing various expressions of amusement.

"Your sister's right about that!" Jayne guffawed, elbowing Simon in the ribs. "Least ways about the old."

Mal gave him a withering look. "I ain't as old as you. I'll have you know I'm in my prime. An' quite a catch."

"Something borrowed, something blue."

Jayne shifted uneasily. "Let's not be talking about the something blue..."

"So, Zoe, I look the part to you?" Mal asked. "Think I look kinda good my own self."

"Feeling pretty are we, Sir?"she replied, a ghost of a smile warming her solemn gaze.

"Feeling pretty, oh so pretty, pretty and witty and .... pretty damn manly," Wash rapidly changed the words to the half-remembered folk song from Earth-that-was on seeing the blackness of the scowl directed at him.

"Okay, Jayne. Let's go do this." Mal was suddenly all brisk and business-like, as he strode towards the open door. Jayne nodded and fell into step beside him.

"An' just remember, whatever happens, I love you," Mal told him, looping his arm through Jayne's and fluttering his eyelashes prettily. "Cuz I'm your wife."

Jayne grunted. "Don't suppose you're one of them wives what promised to obey?"

"Glad to learn you haven't eschewn the sacraments entirely, Captain," Book deadpanned."Marriage is a holy estate, ordained by God. And I'm sure I speak for all of us when I say I hope you'll be very happy together."

"Stow it, Shepherd!" Jayne and Mal replied in unison and headed off down the ramp.  



End file.
